


Sanguine

by Insomnomaniac



Category: Persona 5
Genre: A copious amount of dead rats, Awkwardness, Because Vampires have got some weird shit going on, Blissed out Ryuji, Blood, Blood Drinking, But I'm probably toeing the line, Cause Vampires, Cuddling, Explicit Consent, Fluff, Futaba is also a vampire but she's only mentioned, I swear to god it's not porn, I'm still too shy for that, M/M, Rated M because while it doesn't actually get sexual it definitely does get Horny, Ryuji and Akira are dorks, Vampire Akira, Vampires, Which honestly was inevitable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 11:52:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15948806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insomnomaniac/pseuds/Insomnomaniac
Summary: Ryuji Sakamoto never imagined he'd end up dating a vampire, but here he was.Ryuji Sakamoto also never imagined he'd end up finding said vampire-boyfriend's fangs so incredibly attractive, but uh... here he was.





	Sanguine

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who thought of Vampire Akira dating Ryuji two weeks ago and then was physically incapable of removing the idea from their head until they finally sat down and cranked this out? Me. 
> 
> Guess who's way hornier, like, all the time, than they really should be? Also me. 
> 
> To the two people I know in real life who know I'm the one writing this shit: If you ever read this, I ask that you please *never* mention that fact to me, because I will then be forced to move to the moon to escape my shame. Thank you.

Ryuji Sakamoto would likely be the first to (begrudgingly) admit that his life somewhat resembled a shitty shojo manga. Like, seriously; falling in love with the insanely hot transfer student who ends up turning out to be a fucking vampire? That shit was textbook. Except, you know, Ryuji was a guy, and there hadn’t been cherry blossoms involved, and at no point did he refer to anybody as ‘senpai’- but other than that it was pretty spot on.  
  
But yeah. Akira Kurusu- crazy gorgeous, very charming, Ryuji’s boyfriend (still no fucking idea how he’d managed that one, to be honest), and actual real life vampire. They’d started dating before Ryuji knew, and it had taken two months, one week, four days, and Ryuji walking in on Akira slurping a rat like it was a fucking Capri Sun for that particular detail to come to light. Yeah; that shit actually happened. It was hella awkward, too; both of them just frozen in place, staring at each other, Akira still having a dead rat in his mouth. You hear all this shit about vampires being, like, the epitome of suave and sexy, and while Akira did definitely fit that profile normally, there was still something decidedly unsexy about walking in on your boyfriend wearing old ass, bloodstained grey sweats while doing shots of rodent in his dusty bedroom.  
  
As initially horrible as that had been though, Ryuji supposed it was true that one really could get used to anything, because here he was, several weeks later, sitting in said dusty bedroom playing video games while his boyfriend went to town on another rat not three feet away from him. Really, he’d been less disturbed by the vampire thing than he’d been by the rat thing, because the fangs were… actually pretty hot, not gonna lie, but the dead rodents were considerably less so.  
  
He heard Akira gasp from beside him and glanced over. The rat had been, thankfully, discarded, leaving behind only a few lines of blood that dripped from Akira’s fangs down to his chin, where they were quickly licked away. Ryuji swallowed, hard, eyes fixed on the two hypodermic needles in his boyfriend’s mouth as he tried to quell the tidal wave of dirty thoughts that arose.  
  
Inhibitions be fucked, he had to do it. He had to ask.  
  
“Hey, uh, Akira?” Ryuji asked, trying very hard to look at the screen instead of him.  
  
“Yeah?” Akira responded.  
  
“Do, do you, um, do you always drink from rats? Like, are you on an exclusively rodentia based diet, or…?” Ryuji questioned, hoping to god that didn’t come out sounding anywhere near as obvious as he feared it had.  
  
“Well, pretty much, yeah,” Akira replied, staring at Ryuji curiously. “I mean, it’s not like I can’t drink from other sources, but, you know, there are some, uh, obvious limitations to that.”  
  
“Heh, yeah, I’d imagine,” Ryuji said, hoping to diffuse the awkward energy he felt his question might have brought about. “Like, you can’t exactly just, walk up to somebody and chow down, now can you? I mean sure people seem plenty into that shit in movies and all, but, I get the feeling things might pan out a little differently irl, yeah?”  
  
“I’d say that sounds about accurate, yes,” Akira deadpanned, but Ryuji could still detect the hint of amusement behind the dry delivery of his words.  
  
“Yeah…” Ryuji trailed off.  
  
“Why do you ask?” Akira inquired, bluntly, and Ryuji hoped that he was only imagining his face turning red.  
  
“Oh, you know, uh, no reason!” He blurted out, before quickly returning his focus back to the game and praying that Akira would take the hint to end that conversation. Luckily, he did, though Ryuji got the distinct feeling that his bullshit had not gone undetected.  
  
\----------------------------  
  
Fast forward about two and a half weeks and here they were again- in Akira’s bedroom, a couple hours after school, with Akira’s grouchy ass sort of guardian having gone home for the evening. It was dark outside by now, (well, about as dark as a city ever really got), and the multicolored glow of neon signs and streetlights seeped in through the cracks in the slatted blinds over the grimy windows, honestly providing more light than the single dingy bulb overhead.  
  
Ryuji sat on the edge of Akira’s bed, (surprisingly comfortable, given it’s, uh… simplicity), pawing at the messy blankets and staring over at the desk where his boyfriend sat, hunched, pencil scratching as he filled out notes. It had been getting colder recently, which meant that the old building’s already pretty drafty attic was nearing the point of frigid, which was why both boys had neglected to remove their coats. Akira in particular seemed absolutely miserable, his normally pale skin looking almost blue and his lips tinged a sort of purple color. He’d so far said nothing to address it, but after about a minute or so of watching him shiver, Ryuji couldn’t take it anymore.  
  
“Akira, uh, are you cold?” Ryuji asked. Obviously the answer was yes, but Akira had been known to be pretty stubbornly proud over some things. He’d once gotten horribly motion sick during one of their dates at an amusement park, but had refused to say anything about and wound up puking his guts out into a trash can after their fourth roller coaster once his stomach decided it’d had enough. The rest of the day had been spent with Ryuji feverently apologizing and Akira just as feverently trying to insist he was okay, until they both just sort of gave up and blew a whole bunch of their money on those stupid rigged carnival games (the crappy stuffed animal of indeterminate species that Ryuji had finally managed to win for him still sat on Akira’s shelf).  
  
“I’m fine,” Akira replied, and as if that reply wouldn’t have been horseshit enough on it’s own- Ryuji could literally hear his teeth chattering as he said it.  
  
“I didn’t ask if you were fine, I asked if you were cold,” Ryuji corrected.  
  
“...Maybe a little,” Akira mumbled, scowling slightly as if it were an admission of defeat somehow.  
  
“Mm-hmm,” Ryuji said, the obvious message of ‘no shit’ evident in his tone.  
  
“...Is it really that obvious?” Akira asked, grimacing.  
  
“Babe, your face is blue. It’s like I’m dating a blood sucking smurf, and also you’re shivering like a goddamn chihuahua- yes it’s that obvious,” Ryuji replied, unable to keep himself from grinning fondly at the way Akira seemed to pout at that.  
  
“Alright, alright, yes- I’m cold,” Akira begrudgingly admitted, finally shifting around in his seat to look at Ryuji . “But I can deal with it. I do this every year.”  
  
“I’m sure you can deal with it, but do you know what might make it better?” Ryuji proposed.  
  
“What?” Akira asked, eyeing him somewhat warily. In response, Ryuji just unzipped the front of his coat and held his arms out in invitation.  
  
“I can’t,” Akira said, though he looked sorely tempted.  
  
“Why not?” Ryuji pushed.  
  
“Because then I’ll make you cold too.”  
  
“I don’t give a shit.”  
  
“I’m also trying to finish my homework.”  
  
“Man, _fuck _ya homework!” Ryuji protested, earning a snort from his boyfriend. “Get your frozen butt on over here already!”  
  
Akira, smiling, finally obliged, abandoning his desk and all but dropping himself onto the bed before quickly tucking himself into Ryuji’s side and sighing contentedly as the blond curled his arm around him, wrapping him up in between his coat and his torso. Akira pulled his legs up onto the bed, folding them to the side and leaning more heavily into Ryuji, draping his right arm loosely across Ryuji’s torso so that his hand brushed against the mattress right next to Ryuji’s left hip.  
  
“Is that better?” He heard Ryuji ask.  
  
“Mmmmm, so much better,” Akira hummed. Ryuji was warm. So, so very warm, and Akira found himself pressing his cheek up against the patch of bare skin on Ryuji’s shoulder, reveling in the way that warmth almost seemed to burn against his previously semi-numb face (seriously, it was way too fucking cold up here).  
  
Ryuji, meanwhile, was straining every single muscle in his body not to shudder at the contact. Akira hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he’d make him cold- this shit was like cuddling an ice cube. A very attractive ice cube, absolutely, but an ice cube nonetheless. He wrapped his arm around Akira’s torso, partially in the hopes that it’s somehow warm him up faster, and quietly delighted in the happy sigh he got out of his boyfriend for that. Totally worth it.  
  
And then Akira shifted, pressing the side of his face to Ryuji’s shoulder and, more noticeably, gently nosing up against Ryuji’s neck, and the blond found himself having to resist the urge to shudder for an entirely different reason. Akira, thankfully, didn’t seem to take notice of the, uh, intimacy of his placement, nor of Ryuji’s response to it. Desperate to keep it that way, Ryuji started talking.  
  
“So, uh, your… guardian, I guess, Mr. Sakura,” Ryuji began. “Does he, er, does he know about the whole… vampire, thing?”  
  
“Yeah, he does. I mean, he kinda has to, right? How else am I supposed to explain all the rats?” Akira replied.  
  
“Good point,” Ryuji admitted. “How did he take it?”  
  
“Actually pretty well, which I’ll admit was kinda surprising since he’s usually so, uh…” Akira trailed off.  
  
“Grumpy?” Ryuji supplied.  
  
“Yeah,” Akira said. “But then again, I guess it’s not that surprising that he was okay with it, considering he’s got a vampire for a daughter and all.”  
  
“Wait, what?!” Ryuji asked, startled.  
  
“Yeah, Futaba?” Akira replied. “Vampire.”  
  
“Woah woah woah, I’m sorry, Futaba?! As in that shy chick with the huge glasses?”  
  
“Yep, that’s the one.”  
  
“Holy shit! I mean, A: I didn't know she was Mr. Sakura’s daughter, I didn’t even think the dude liked kids, nevermind had one, and B: I didn’t know she was a fucking vampire either dude what the hell?? Aren’t you guys supposed to be, like, rare as shit? How the hell are there two of you right here??”  
  
“Well, Japan’s a pretty densely populated country, babe,” Akira responded, chuckling at his boyfriend’s bafflement. “And I guess, technically, she’s a Risen, not an actual ‘Vampire’, but whatever.”  
  
“What’s the difference?”  
  
“Vampire’s are born vampires, Risen used to be human until they were bitten by vampires.”  
  
“Wait so if you guys bite somebody they automatically turn into vampires?”  
  
“No. Risen only happen when a vampire drains someone completely, which is why they’re pretty rare, since usually, getting drained completely means you just die.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“Yeah. It’s pretty shitty. Mr. Sakura says she got bitten when she was just a kid, too, like, 10 or something. Luckily she didn’t die, obviously, but she can’t go outside very often, since Risen are super sensitive to sunlight, and she’s kind of like, permanently anaemic.”  
  
“Damn. That blows.”  
  
“Yeah… but hey, she seems to be doing fine,” Akira said.  
  
“Ah, good. That’s good,” Ryuji replied, nodding. They sat in comfortable silence for another few moments, Akira luckily having warmed up to the point where it was less like cuddling a block of ice and more like cuddling a slightly chilly pillow, before Ryuji spoke up again.  
  
“So, I take it this, uh, aversion to cold, is a vampire thing?” He asked.  
  
“Yup,” Akira confirmed. “We don’t exactly generate body heat as well as humans do. We’re still mammals, yeah, but we don’t run nearly as hot as most. It makes summers easier, I guess, but winters are always the fucking worst.”  
  
“Oof, yeah, that’s gotta suck.” Ryuji replied, winking at his last word and gently nudging Akira, who actually pulled his face up off of Ryuji’s shoulder to glare disapprovingly at him.  
  
“Absolutely deplorable,” Akira deadpanned, shaking his head slightly before tucking himself back into Ryuji’s shoulder. If anything, his face was even closer to Ryuji’s neck now, which really didn’t help.  
  
“You know you love it,” Ryuji said, hoping that Akira didn’t notice the way his voice warbled a little. He could feel Akira’s breath against the skin of his neck, the short little exhales of air, colder than they would’ve been had Akira been human, making Ryuji’s stomach do somersaults.  
  
“Mmm-hmm,” Akira replied sarcastically.  
  
“A-anyway though,” Ryuji continued. “Since Mr. Sakura know you’re a vampire, and since he, like, knows some stuff about vampires because of his daughter apparently, shouldn’t he know about the whole ‘not liking the cold’ thing?”  
  
“Yeah, he knows,” Akira responded. “He says Futaba won’t move more than three feet from her space heater throughout the entire month of January.”  
  
“Okay, but then, if he knows you guys can’t do the cold, why the hell does he keep it so cold up here?!” Ryuji asked.  
  
“Well, it’s not like there’s a whole lot he can do,” Akira said. “This building’s pretty old in the first place, so it doesn’t have much in the way of climate control, and attics are always pretty rough when it comes to extreme temperatures, you know?”  
  
“I mean, I guess,” Ryuji conceded. “But like, come on! He can at least do something, right? Like, get you a space heater, or put in some insulation or some shit, I don’t know! That’s so shitty, like, what does he expect you to do? Freeze?”  
  
“I’m sure that’s not what he’s thinking,” Akira said.  
  
“But still!” Ryuji protested. “What are you supposed to do?!”  
  
“Well,” Akira replied, his tone suddenly shifting to something a lot more playful, “I’ve got you, don’t I?” Ryuji’s face turned bright red.  
  
“Uh, I, um,” Ryuji sputtered intelligently. What the hell was he supposed to say to that?! Akira laughed at his reaction, and then proceeded to do the exact opposite of helping by nuzzling in even closer, close enough that his lips were juust brushing over Ryuji’s neck. Ryuji’s brain, meanwhile, had been replaced by that blue error screen you sometimes get when your computer decides to stop functioning entirely.  
  
The sudden sound of Akira’s stomach rather loudly grumbling startled them both. Akira, seeming to have only now realized what he was doing, jolted backwards as if he’d been burned, turning his face away in shame. Ryuji silently cussed out everything he could think of.  
  
“Sorry, I, uh,” now it was Akira’s turn to fumble. “I didn’t quite realize I’d, um…”  
  
“No, no, it’s okay,” Ryuji replied, unable to prevent himself from laughing nervously. That was a lie. It had been way more than okay, and he very much wished Akira would go back to doing it.  
  
“I, uh, I get kinda, hungrier, when I’m cold,” Akira mumbled. “We all do, I guess, probably because what we, um, eat helps us warm up, but, that’s not an excuse. I’m not an animal, I should be able to control myself better, and I’m sorry. I get it if you want to leave.”  
  
Wait. Wait. Wait a minute. So… Akira had been doing that because he was… oh. Oh. Holy shit. If Ryuji’s face had been hot before, it was now burning at somewhere around the same temperature as the motherfucking sun. Akira had been about to…  
  
“It’s fine!” Ryuji choked out.  
  
“Really?” Akira asked, turning back to look at him. He looked deeply ashamed of himself, and was likely interpreting Ryuji’s odd behavior as a sign of fear rather than as the sign of flustered excitement that it actually was.  
  
“Yup!” Ryuji confirmed, nodding jerkily, his gaze darting from Akira’s dark, apprehensive eyes to the tips of the razor sharp fangs still poking out from behind his lips. Holy fuck.  
  
“You’re not… freaked out? Or upset, at all?” Akira pushed, looking as though he hardly dared to believe it.  
  
“Nope!” Ryuji replied, shaking his head, his eyes now having decided to devote their focus entirely to the little he could see of his boyfriend’s fangs, while his brain took that visual input and sent it on the express train straight down south to Horny Land. Sweet baby jesus, what was wrong with him? Why did he find this shit so unbelievably attractive??  
  
“Hah…” Akira laughed, humorlessly. “You know sometimes, Ryuji, I swear; you’re honestly way too good to be true.” That right there was a fact. Ryuji Sakamoto was a gift from the goddam heavens. Sweet, supportive, funny, loyal, doting- he was practically fucking perfect. And here Akira was taking advantage of him. He felt horrible. He was supposed to be better than this! He wasn’t supposed to bite anyone, no matter how hungry he got, and he _especially _wasn’t supposed to try and bite the goofy dork he’d fallen in love with several months ago. If part of him still somehow saw Ryuji as food, then… he honestly was starting to feel a little nauseous. He’d had times where he’d felt like a monster before, but never as strongly as he did now. Ryuji was too good for him.  
  
“I could say the same about you,” Ryuji replied, smiling, and Akira felt an uncomfortable lump in his throat. God he was perfect, and god did he deserve so much better. Akira coughed slightly, trying to relieve some of the tightness in his throat.  
  
“I’m, uh, I’m gonna go grab something to eat,” he said, reluctantly pulling himself away from his boyfriend’s warmth and trying not to shiver as the cold of the room hit him all over again.  
  
Ryuji watched Akira get up, immediately disappointed at the loss of contact, and, unbeknownst to Akira, working up the courage to make the proposition he’d been wanting to make for, well, a while now.  
  
Akira had made it about halfway to the rat-filled mini fridge that he kept in the corner before Ryuji finally blurted out: “Are you sure you wanna go for the rat?”  
  
Akira stopped and turned to look at him, blinking in surprise.  
  
“What?” he questioned.  
  
“Well, uh, I mean, I’m not like, a blood expert or anything but, it can’t taste that good, right?” Ryuji asked.  
  
“Well, it’s rat blood,” Akira replied.  
  
“And… does rat blood taste good?” Ryuji asked. Akira stared at him.  
  
“Okay so think about blood, right?” Akira began.  
  
“Right,” Ryuji replied.  
  
“Then add “rat” to it,” Akira said.  
  
“Sooooo… bad,” Ryuji guessed.  
  
“Yes,” Akira confirmed. “It tastes like rat blood.” Enlightening. “You gotta do what you gotta do.”  
  
“Okay but like, didn’t you say part of the reason you were hungry was because you were cold?” Ryuji insisted. “That shit’s been in the refrigerator- it’s not gonna help with that!”  
  
“I mean, I guess,” Akira conceded, now seeming increasingly confused as to where Ryuji was going with this.  
  
“Exactly! It’s refrigerated rat blood! That doesn’t sound good on any level!”  
  
“Well… no, but it’s not like I have any other options,” Akira said.  
  
“That’s not… necessarily true,” Ryuji argued. Akira’s brow furrowed.  
  
“What?” He asked. Ryuji gulped. Alright, this was it: moment of truth. He could do this.  
  
“Well, you know, for instance, uh...” Ryuji began. Come on man, pull yourself together! Just fucking say it already! “You could always, you know… justgetitfromme,” he blurted out. When he looked back up again Akira was frozen, staring at him with an expression that he couldn’t quite place, but seemed somewhere in the realm of both want and horror.  
  
“Ryuji,” Akira said after a moment, his voice noticeably strained. “That isn’t funny.”  
  
“Good, ‘cause, uh, I wasn’t joking,” Ryuji replied. He tried to make himself sound serious, resolute, but he knew for a fact that his face looked like he’d been dunked in a bucket of red paint, which probably undercut any vibes he was giving off that weren’t “desperate virgin”. Akira just stared.  
  
“Ryuji, if you-” Akira began, cutting himself off with a deep breath. “You don’t- you know you don’t have to… I’m fine with the rats. I’ve done this my entire life.”  
  
“Yeah, but, do you like it?” Ryuji asked.  
  
“I’m fine,” Akira insisted.  
  
“Akira,” Ryuji said, looking his boyfriend straight in the eye. “I didn’t ask if you were fine, I asked if you liked it.” Akira inhaled shakily before responding.  
  
“...No. I don’t,” he admitted, unable to look away from Ryuji’s big brown eyes, and unable to stop himself from telling the truth. “I really don't it. It’s honestly fucking nasty. I get hair in my mouth, cold blood is terrible, rat blood tastes like, well, rats, and it’s not what we’re naturally made to eat, so I’m always hungry, even after I’ve just eaten. But it’s fine! I can deal with it! I’ve done this literally my entire life! You don’t need to-”  
  
“Akira,” Ryuji interrupted, and Akira promptly fell silent. He looked almost desperate now, and Ryuji found himself getting a sense of deja vu as he said: “I’m sure you can deal with it. But do you know what might make it better?” Akira, apparently having also caught on to the accidental repetition of their earlier conversation, laughed humorlessly.  
  
“Ryuji, I can’t,” he said.  
  
“Why not?” Ryuji protested. “You’re not forcing me into it! I wouldn’t suggest it if I wasn’t totally on board!”  
  
“Because I don’t want to think of you that way!” Akira replied, his voice cracking slightly. “You’re not _food _Ryuji! You’re… you’re probably the greatest person I’ve ever met- you’re my boyfriend, for fucks sake- and… and if I can think of you as just…” Akira trailed off, shaking his head. Ryuji was quiet for a moment, both because his brain was busy trying not to explode in response to Akira saying nice things about him, and because he was trying to figure out a work around here, since he was still very much into the idea of introducing those fangs to his flesh. Yeah. He’d come to the conclusion that apparently, sharp teeth were a… thing, for him. He had no idea why, as that honestly seemed pretty counterintuitive survival-wise but uh… yeah. _Whew _.  
  
“Well…” he began, “just because you get some blood from me doesn’t, like, necessarily mean you see me as just food.”  
  
“In what way does that make sense?” Akira asked, still upset.  
  
“Well, okay, think about it this way: you were using me for heat earlier, right?” Ryuji suggested.  
  
“I mean, that was part of it, yeah,” Akira admitted, “but that wasn’t all of it! I don’t just want to use you, Ryuji, I- I do genuinely like, you know, uh, cuddling, I guess, with you.” Again, Ryuji’s brain had to work overtime not to catch fire over that.  
  
“Trust me, I, uh, I do too,” Ryuji stammered out. “But that’s exactly my point! You got something from me that you needed, but you weren’t using me, I wanted to do it, and we both enjoyed it! See? Same thing! You got heat from me without just seeing me as a heat source, so you can get food from me without just seeing me as a food source!”  
  
“Yeah okay but cuddling is one thing. I don’t exactly think you’ll really be able to “enjoy” me sticking my teeth into your goddamn neck,” Akira argued.  
  
“Well-” Ryuji began, his voice cracking a little. “I, uh, I maybe wouldn’t be so sure of that, if I were you.” Akira’s mouth had dropped open a little in sheer disbelief of what he was hearing, enough so that Ryuji could just barely see the tips of the fangs that had yet to withdraw, and it was that sight that prompted Ryuji to inadvertently blurt out: “I think your fangs are hot.”  
  
Silence. Akira’s face had gone completely blank, and Ryuji could practically hear the Windows XP startup noise as, after a few seconds, his boyfriend seemed to come back to life, letting out a single choked “ _Oh? _”  
  
“Please don’t make me say it again,” Ryuji said. “I’m about to die of embarrassment any second now, and I know you heard me.”  
  
“I, uh, I mean, I did,” Akira began. His cheeks had turned faintly pink, which, for a vampire, was quite a feat. “I just, uh… wow. Um.”  
  
“Yeeeaaahhhh….” Ryuji replied. For a moment they just stayed there like that, flustered, staring at each other, before Ryuji couldn’t take it anymore. “So, are you gonna, uh, take me up on that orrrrrr…” he trailed off.  
  
“I- you’re sure about this?” Akira asked, looking both hopeful and apprehensive. Ryuji just gave him a look, to which Akira laughed nervously and said: “Yeah, yeah, okay, I know you already said you were but… I just… I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”  
  
“What’s making me uncomfortable is continuing to talk about this could you please just get over here already?” Ryuji replied, getting Akira to laugh again, a little more confidently this time.  
  
“Alright, alright, I’m coming, no need to get your panties in a twist,” he teased. Ryuji really wished he hadn’t used the word “panties” in this context, as even though this scenario wasn’t overtly sexual, it still definitely, definitely had enough similarities to make his mind go there.  
  
Akira made his way back over to the bed, his steps noticeably somewhat jerky, betraying his nervousness. He stopped right in front of Ryuji and the two stared at each other again.  
  
“So, uh, how exactly do we…?” Ryuji asked.  
  
“Uh, that kinda depends, I mean, I’m not like, an expert on this…” Akira began, nervously rubbing the back of his own neck. “We don’t have to go straight for the neck, you know. The wrist also works, if you would be more comfortable with-”  
  
“Neck is fine!” Ryuji blurted out. They both flushed at that, neither one moving for yet another awkward moment, before Akira finally spoke up again.  
  
“So, we could, uh, just kinda…” he trailed off, seeming to think for a second before stepping over to the right and settling himself at the head of his bed and leaning back against the wall, propping his pillow up against his lower back and kicked his legs out into a ‘v’ shape. “You can, uh…” Akira began, before evidently deciding that words were not going to work well here and just waving his hand at Ryuji in a “come here” gesture.  
  
Ryuji quickly obliged, pulling his legs up onto the bed and sort of shuffle-crawling his way over to Akira, stopping once they were practically face to face. He was honestly relieved to see that yes: Akira looked just as unsure as he was.  
  
“Okay, um…” Akira started, swallowing hard before continuing. “Now you can, take your coat off and, uh, turn around? You know, like…” he made a little twirling gesture with his hand, and Ryuji got the message, shucking off his coat and shifting so that he now sat facing the desk with his back to Akira, which honestly didn't make him any less nervous. He wasn’t afraid of Akira, obviously, this was just, well, intimate. After only about a second’s hesitation he scooted back a little and reclined himself so that he was now right up against Akira, back to chest. He felt Akira let out a shaky exhale, the whoosh of breath past his ear making him shiver, and he tilted his head back to look at Akira, unable to help the dopey grin that spread across his face when he met his boyfriend’s eyes.  
  
“Hi,” he said softly, giggling a little.  
  
“Hi,” Akira replied, smiling and gently nosing at Ryuji’s hair. Ryuji sighed happily, sliding his eyes shut and resting his head back against Akira’s shoulder. This was… nice. He felt safe with Akira wrapped around him like this, which was probably an odd thing to feel considering he was about to get his neck chomped, but that was the thing: this was Akira. Ryuji trusted Akira, he loved Akira, so of course he wasn’t afraid.  
  
The feeling of cold fingers brushing lightly against his neck caused Ryuji to jump, eyes flying open.  
  
“Ack! Dude, your hands are like ice!” Ryuji protested.  
  
“Oh, sorry,” Akira apologized, and then paused for a moment before…  
  
“Gah!!” Ryuji yelped, jolting away from two freezing hands had snuck their way up into his shirt to press against the unsuspecting skin of his abdomen. “You asshole!” He sputtered out. Akira laughed at him.  
  
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Akira choked out in between cackles, before managing to pull himself together. His hands moved out from under Ryuji’s shirt, one going to rest against the blond’s right hip and the other curling around Ryuji’s torso and planting itself on his sternum, nudging him back to lay against Akira again.  
  
“I just couldn’t resist,” Akira murmured, leaning in and nosing gently at the underside of Ryuji’s jaw. In response, Ryuji hummed appreciatively, tilting his head back even further to lay on Akira’s shoulder, and, more importantly, give Akira even better access to his neck. Akira laughed at that, much quieter this time, but Ryuji could still feel his boyfriend’s chest move as he chuckled, not to mention hear it pretty well, given the proximity of Akira’s face to Ryuji’s ears. “You’re cute,” he whispered, and the feeling of his lips ghosting against the skin of Ryuji’s neck made Ryuji shudder and groan softly. Akira’s lips were slightly chapped, giving them and overall rougher texture and Ryuji moved in to the contact, practically wanting to punch something when his boyfriend fucking hesitated. again!!  
  
“Akira,” Ryuji grumbled impatiently.  
  
“I know, I know, I’m sorry, it’s just… you’re really sure about this?” Akira asked, and god fucking dammit he sounded nervous again.  
  
“Akira for fucks sake! Yes I’m sure!” Ryuji said, exasperated.  
  
“Again; I know, and I’m sorry I keep asking but… I don’t want to do anything you aren’t 100% comfortable with,” Akira replied, once again setting off butterflies in Ryuji’s stomach. As annoying as it was to constantly be slowed down and to have to answer the same question seemingly 1,000 times, Ryuji found that he did still like the sentiment behind these interruptions. The frequent reminders and reassurances of the fact that Akira cared about him, wanted to make him happy, loved him… even if poorly timed, they were very nice to have.  
  
“Babe, I appreciate you looking out for me, really, I do, but I can assure you that I am absolutely, 1,000,000% on board with this. I’m the one who suggested it, remember? And I love you but I swear to god, if you don’t just get to it already I’m going to headbutt you,” Ryuji threatened. He felt Akira let out a snort at that.  
  
“Yeesh, someone’s impatient,” he joked, before his voice got serious again. “For real though, if anything hurts, or if you want to stop at any point, just let me know because I will stop. You say the word or anything like that and I will absolutely stop what I’m doing, okay?”  
  
“Yes, yes, I get it,” Ryuji huffed. Sure, he understood the importance of what Akira was saying but good god. “Now would you please quit stalling? Because I wasn’t kidding about the headbutting.”  
  
Finally, Akira seemed to get the message. He moved his head back down to mouth lightly at the right side of Ryuji’s neck, drawing a low hum of approval from his boyfriend, who once again slid his eyes shut, allowing himself to revel in the sensation alone. He felt Akira’s lips part, felt a slight pinch and then- oh.  
  
Ryuji would later deny that he made any sound at this point, choosing instead to maintain that he’d been largely silent the entire time. If Akira was to be believed however, (which, Ryuji would like to reiterate, he should not be), Ryuji made a noise that could best, and perhaps only, be described as a moan.  
  
The bite itself didn’t hurt. Honestly, it was somehow even less painful than the like, two second flu shot that he got every year. The actual sensation of having his blood drained was… kinda weird, yeah, but also not that noticeable. What was definitely noticeable, however, was the fact that Ryuji suddenly felt fucking fantastic. He felt warm and weightless, somehow both detached from and hyper aware of his own body. Specifically, he was hyper aware of Akira- his mouth on Ryuji’s neck, his heartbeat against Ryuji’s back, the way his thumb rubbed small, comforting circles into the skin of Ryuji’s hip- all of it. Ryuji honestly felt better than he had in pretty much his entire life.  
  
From Akira’s perspective, Ryuji practically lost all bones the second Akira’s fangs sunk into his neck. That part didn’t come as that much of a surprise: vampires possessed a sort of ‘venom’ that acted essentially as a sedative, designed to keep whatever it was they were biting from fighting back or running off. What was sort of surprising was both the noise Ryuji made as he was bitten, (or, if you were to listen to Ryuji, the noise he most certainly did not make), as well as the look of bliss that spread across his face almost immediately after. Akira was glad Ryuji seemed to be happy, because he really would feel bad if he was the only one enjoying the situation. And oh boy, was he enjoying the situation.  
  
Though Akira had solidly refused to admit it to himself, he’d thought that Ryuji smelled good for… a while now. Hell, practically the first thing he’d noticed about the blond (right after his rather unorthodox fashion sense), had been that he smelled fucking mouth-wateringly good. Now that he’d actually gotten a taste though, Akira could confirm that yes indeed, his hypothesis had been correct: Ryuji Sakamoto was delicious. Of course, he didn’t really have much in the way of experience as to what human blood tasted like, but even without that knowledge, Akira was pretty confident that Ryuji was extraordinarily good.  
  
Even though Ryuji seemed plenty okay on the anxiety front, Akira couldn’t stop himself from moving his thumb in small circles on the skin of Ryuji’s hip, just above his waistband, as if in an attempt to soothe him. He pretty clearly didn’t need soothing, but Akira supposed it was some sort of instinct.  
  
Another thing that he hadn’t been expecting but was pleasantly surprised to discover: human blood was very filling. He’d only taken a few mouthfuls before feeling satisfied and full, which was honestly pretty new for him. Now, obviously, he would’ve stopped drinking way before posing any sort of threat to Ryuji’s health, even if he was still hungry, but it turned out that wasn’t going to be necessary.  
  
Instead, he slid his fangs out from Ryuji’s neck, pausing to suck the remaining blood off of said fangs before gently licking at the two perfect puncture wounds he'd left behind. He knew it was pretty weird, but while his fangs may have contained a sedative, his saliva contained a coagulant that would both halt the bleeding and heal the wounds much better and faster than just letting nature take its course with them. Ryuji was good. Ryuji was so, so good, and Akira didn’t want him feeling any sort of pain. Besides, if the shudder and the little groan that Ryuji made in response to it was any indication; he didn’t seem to have any problems with Akira’s tongue.  
  
Ryuji, meanwhile, was still off floating on cloud nine. Much to his delight, he found that whatever was causing the state of euphoria he currently resided in did not get cut off when Akira pulled away. Instead, it remained, leaving him giddy and content. He felt Akira’s tongue lapping softly at the tiny holes in Ryuji’s skin that his fangs had left and dear god that had no right to feel as good as it did.  
  
Side note: Ryuji was beginning to suspect that, on top of his newly discovered love of sharp teeth, he might also have a bit of a sensitive neck-zone. Wow. Akira really was the perfect boyfriend, wasn’t he? He checked pretty much every single box on the list of Ryuji’s apparent fetishes. Were they fetishes? What defines a fetish? And why was it called that anyway: “fetish”? Like, that was such a strange word- Akira was moving away.  
  
Ryuji whined in protest, finding himself incapable of forming actual words at the moment. Why was Akira leaving? He didn’t want Akira to leave! Unfortunately, he found that it wasn’t just his voice that was proving useless, but his entire body. He felt kind of as if all of his muscles and bones had been removed and then replaced with sand- heavy and immobile. The best he was able to do was weakly curl the fingers of his right hand into a loose grip on Akira’s shirt, a grip so pathetic it would likely take more effort not to break it than to actually break it. Luckily though, Akira seemed to understand what he was trying to communicate.  
  
“Hey, it’s okay,” Akira said, his voice gentle and placating. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I’m just trying to put my glasses away so I can lay down more comfortably, alright?”  
  
True to his word, Akira didn’t leave the bed, instead leaning away for just long enough to place his glasses on the edge of the shelf before wrapping both arms back around Ryuji.  
  
“Well, I just ate- obviously- so I’m kinda tired,” Akira said. “And something tells me you feel similarly on that front, so do you wanna go to sleep?” Ryuji, still unable to form words, clumsily nodded in response. Sleep sounded excellent right now, especially if it meant that he got to lay here with Akira for even longer.  
  
“Great,” Akira replied. He then shuffled around for a moment, moving both himself and his immobile boyfriend so that they were actually laying down with their heads on the pillow, and then pulled the blankets up over the two of them before scooting in closer and pulling Ryuji back towards him. They’d done stuff like this before, so he knew Ryuji usually really liked being the little spoon, and if the happy hum the blond made was any indication, this time was no different. He tossed his left arm over Ryuji’s midsection, letting his hand rest gently against Ryuji’s stomach.  
  
Akira let out a sigh, snuggling into Ryuji’s back, reveling in the warmth that radiated from the body in his arms. It didn’t take either of them very long to fall asleep, but before they did, they both had the distinct thought of: “We should really do this more often.”__________

**Author's Note:**

> I know a lot of the time people write these two, especially Akira, as like, really suave and all that but like... this bitch is a teenager. There is not a single teenager I know who isn't a total awkward mess, at least deep down, and I wanted to reflect that. 
> 
> Please tell me what you thought. This is kinda outside the realm of what I usually write, so I'm curious to see how I did.


End file.
